CHAPTER V. I do not wish to blow off a head, you understand. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. You can if you will. "It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. Steps to aid the descent, which was too steep to be safe without them, led to, a door on the opposite side.
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